


Pushing The Right Button

by Brego_Mellon_Nin



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: (Erica touches Stiles against his will), 5 Times, 5+1 Things, Blow Jobs, Cuddling & Snuggling, Dubious Consent, Explicit Sexual Content, Hand Jobs, Inappropriate Erections, Licking, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-07
Updated: 2013-02-07
Packaged: 2017-11-28 13:18:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,862
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/674824
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Brego_Mellon_Nin/pseuds/Brego_Mellon_Nin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The 5 times someone from the pack accidentally makes Stiles come in his pants and the one time it’s deliberate.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Pushing The Right Button

**Author's Note:**

> This one is my attempt at the 5 Times trend :) I make no apologies for my crazy, fucked up brain, you know you love it anyway! Haha...
> 
> Eternally grateful to my pre reader nmydreamz and my beta Corey Smith. Also Dalina, aka [Dragontattoo75](http://archiveofourown.org/users/dragontattoo75), thank you, girl, for your unfailing support! You are always there to help me when I get stuck or my brain is running around in circles refusing to cooperate :) I bow to your awesomeness!
> 
>  **Warnings:** Beware of Slash (boy on boy lovin’) and Graphic Sexual Content.
> 
>  **Disclaimer:** No, I do not own Teen Wolf, who knew, right?

**Pushing The Right Button**

  
**1\. Scott**  
  
Stiles has a weak spot. He’s known for years and it’s only through meticulous care that it’s not been discovered already, even by Scott.  
  
It’s not a weakness as such, but it’s not something he has any hope of avoiding ridicule for, should it be revealed. The thing is, Stiles has a really, _really_ sensitive belly button. It’s like it’s connected straight to his dick and even the smallest amount of touch has him rock-hard in seconds. Continued stimulation makes him come hard and fast, which is not a fact he wants anybody to know. There is a reason he always wears so many layers.  
  
As is usual with his life, the choice is taken out of his hands, though.  
  
After a tiring day of running for their lives through the forest, the pack is having a talk while cooling down. Naturally, Stiles slips in the mud and is about to faceplant into the forest floor, when Scott grabs him around the middle, yanking him upright again. Stiles is not particularly happy, because when his friend reached for him, a hand went under his shirt and Scott’s fingers grazed over his navel when his arm curled around Stiles’ waist. The reaction was instantaneous and, above all, obvious and he is now torn between panicking and laughing at the ridiculousness that is his life. He would actually have preferred a mouthful of rotten leaves to standing amongst a group of werewolves, when his cock is hard and throbbing in his jeans. They can smell that shit, alright?  
  
Stiles squirms in Scott’s grip, trying to pull away, but it seems like his friend is worried he will fall over once more and break a leg, thus rendering him unable to come and save all their furry asses.  
  
So he tightens his hold.  
  
This provides an unfortunate pressure right where Stiles does _not_ want it right now and he bends over, slapping Scott’s hand away. It’s too late though; the pleasure is crashing through him in a wave and the dam breaks, his cock emptying in pulses. He tries to cough in an attempt to cover up any sounds or reactions he might otherwise display. If his legs tremble a bit as his muscles clench and release, well, he’s spent half the day running, so he has an excuse. What he doesn’t have an excuse for is the jizz currently cooling in his boxers, so he needs to get out of there fast.  
  
Scott looks at him weirdly when Stiles backs away with a bad excuse and runs for the jeep, peeling away and giving it full throttle all the way back to the Stilinski house.  
  
Apparently, they all agree he was just being his regular, crazy old self, and nobody mentions anything, so Stiles figures he’s safe.  
  
  
¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤  
  
  
 **2\. Jackson**  
  
A few weeks after the close call, Stiles is sitting on the bench at lacrosse practice, watching Jackson and Scott tear through the poor, unfortunate humans attempting to keep them from reaching the goal. Greenberg, the big idiot, refuses to budge, so Scott gives him a shove, making him tumble over and hit the ground with a sickening crunch. Coach Finstock takes one look at him and blows his whistle before hollering, “Bilinski, get out here!”  
  
It only takes about two minutes before Jackson tackles him the first time and Stiles slams to the ground, all air punched out of his lungs. Wonderful! Normally, Jackson isn’t as douchey now he’s a part of the pack, but it seems like old habits die hard, at least on the lacrosse field.  
  
Right when Scott darts off towards the goal, trying to score, Jackson throws his stick out to cut off Stiles from following. Naturally, he manages to poke Stiles in the stomach, _hard_ , and it’s like fireworks go off in his head. The force of the impact makes him double over, luckily hiding the fact that his dick reacted like it was presented with the entire contents of a sex shop, for free. Realistically, Stiles knows that a blow like this should maybe have negated the pleasure he could derive from the belly button touching, or, _jabbing_ in this case, but the ghost of the hit is still lingering on his skin and the electric spark running up and down his spine tells him, this is game over. His cock erupts in his pants, wringing a grunt from Stiles. How something so pleasurable can be so mortifying at the same time is beyond him.  
  
He flees to the locker room to get out of his soiled underwear and ends up throwing them out, because how could he walk around in them the rest of the day without someone from the pack catching the scent? Fortunately, he has an extra pair in his gym bag, so he puts them on after showering and tries to ignore the pinched looks Jackson is sending him, when the rest of the team comes in from the field.  
  
Stiles spends the rest of the day being afraid that Jackson has figured something out, or perhaps caught some scent of arousal when he jammed his stick into Stiles belly, but the ridicule is still absent, so he counts himself lucky...at least until he gets to his jeep and sees the werewolf leaned against it.  
  
“What do you want, Jackson?” he asks warily.  
  
Jackson looks sort of constipated, but doesn’t back down or run off, he just keeps looking at Stiles.  
  
“I’m sorry. I didn’t want to hurt you, I just forget sometimes that you are only human. You’re with the pack all the time, you know? I didn’t mean to be so rough on you.”  
  
When Stiles nods, for once totally speechless, he turns and stalks over to his porsche, racing away with squealing tires.  
  
  
¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤  
  
  
 **3\. Boyd**  
  
Stiles is minding his own business, munching on his curly fries in the school cafeteria, when Isaac and Boyd start squabbling over the last tuna sandwich. Apparently, tuna is their favorite and both feel it should be their turn to have it. Stiles would make a joke about them fighting over their food like wolves, but he’s pretty sure they wouldn’t appreciate it, so he concentrates on his own food, for once.  
  
Of course it ends with them actually growling and trying to grab the damn thing, which results in Boyd and Isaac ripping it in half. When the sandwich breaks, Boyd’s elbow snaps back and hits Stiles’ abdomen. He makes an ‘oomph’ sound and falls backwards off his chair. The curled-up position enables him to hide his now rock-hard erection while he wheezes for breath. This is just ridiculous!  
  
Boyd looks apologetic, but nothing like the kicked, puppy-dog eyes Isaac is turning on him.  
  
“Oh my God, I’m so sorry, Stiles, are you okay?” the curly haired werewolf whines as he gets up from his seat. Stiles does not want any kind of werewolf nose near him in his current state, so he struggles to his feet, still hunched over and holds up a hand in Isaac’s direction.  
  
“I’m fine,” he croaks, “I’ll just go to the bathroom to puke up my intestines. Excuse me.”  
  
Boyd snorts and mumbles, “If he can make jokes, it’s not serious. Sit down and eat your half, Isaac.”  
  
Stiles high-tails it to the bathroom and shuts himself in a cubicle. His cock is twitching in the confines of his jeans and he rips the buttons open to release the pressure. He wraps a hand around himself and jerks off quickly, coming so hard his legs almost collapse and the aftershocks are close to violent. Afterwards, Stiles cleans up very thoroughly, to avoid the pack smelling what he’s been up to and make sure to walk close to a few random students on his way back to the cafeteria in order to mask his own scent with that of some strangers.  
  
As it turns out, the others have all vacated the table and Stiles is left alone to eat the remainder of his burger - someone took the rest of his curly fries, and if he ever discovers who, he will kill them - before making it to his next class.  
  
  
¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤  
  
  
 **4\. Isaac**  
  
Stiles wakes up when a cold gust of wind touches him. He lifts his head from the pillow, blinking blearily at the window, expecting to find a certain Sourwolf standing there, glaring. What he sees, though, is a dejected looking Isaac, shoulders slumped and head bowed.  
  
“What now?” Stiles groans. He’s so tired, isn’t it possible for him to get a full night’s sleep without being interrupted with some sort of supernatural crisis?  
  
Isaac winces, as if Stiles is preparing to physically kick him out the window. Stiles might have built up a bit of muscle while running with the werewolves, but no way is he strong enough for that!  
  
“I couldn’t sleep, all the others are home and Derek ran off into the forest for some reason. It... it feels wrong being alone. Can I stay here for a while? I promise I won’t disturb you!”  
  
Stiles takes one look at Isaac’s forlorn puppy face and rolls over to make space and lifts the covers in invitation. Before he can even open his mouth to voice his welcome, there’s a warm body next to him in bed. He sighs.  
  
“Just don’t eat me in your sleep and make sure to be gone in the morning before my dad wakes up, okay?”  
  
Isaac nods fervently and then Stiles turns over on his side, back to his new bed fellow and closes his eyes. It takes less than five minutes for him to drift off again.  
  
He should have known Isaac would be a cuddler, it’s so obvious, really. The curly haired wolf may have had a brief period of power-tripping when he got turned, but deep down, he’s a softie and he’s always the one initiating movie nights and puppy piles.  
  
Which explains why Stiles wakes up a second time, wrapped up in Isaac’s arms. One is wandering dangerously low and he knows it’s about time he get himself out of this before it turns into a horrible show of humiliation and mortification. When he wiggles to get out, however, Isaac tightens his grip and grumbles in his sleep, which is a bad, _bad_ thing, seeing as his arm is now brushing over Stiles’ belly button. He can feel the blood rushing south into his cock with startling speed. It almost leaves him dizzy, how quickly it relocates, and within an embarrassingly short amount of time his pajama pants are tented obscenely, the bulge twitching a little with each beat of his pulse. The situation now officially qualifies as an emergency, so Stiles braces himself and tries to wrench out of his bedfellow’s vice-like grip. Unfortunately, Isaac’s hold doesn’t budge _at all_ ; all Stiles accomplishes with his stunt is exactly what he was trying to avoid.  
  
As the pressure on his navel rises, he can feel the tell-tale tingle starting all the way from his toes. His body seizes up and his balls tighten before the tension breaks and a wave of pleasure crashes over him. It’s too intense and he can’t hold back a moan at the sensation. When his body stops trembling, he is finally aware enough to notice that the arm previously restricting him is now loose. When Stiles turns his head, he is met with a pair of wide, golden, glowing eyes. Fuck!  
  
Stiles meeps and jerks out of Isaac’s embrace, running for the bathroom, his cheeks burning with shame. There really is no way to avoid the whole pack finding out now, because there’s not even a snowball’s chance in hell Isaac didn’t notice what happened. Oh crap!  
  
When Stiles returns to his bedroom, the bed is empty and there is a note on the pillow in Isaac’s scrawl. It only says ‘sorry’. Stiles is not really sure what he’s sorry about, though. Seeing it? Causing it? Or the fact he’s going to tell the whole pack, who will then torture Stiles for all of eternity?  
  
He groans and dives back under his covers, trying to block out the entire world.

  
¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤

  
 **5\. Erica**  
  
Stiles walks around with a permanent cringe on his face for the duration of classes the day after Isaac had showed up in his bedroom.  
  
Nothing happens.  
  
He gets the normal taunts and teasing, a few concerned looks in response to his expression and general jumpy behavior; but otherwise, nothing. Isaac stays away from him to a degree where Stiles has to wonder if he’s actively trying to avoid a confrontation of any kind.  
  
When he is safely in his jeep and on his way home, he breathes a sigh of relief and relaxes for the first time all day. He stops at the grocery store to pick up something for dinner since his dad will be working late, browsing the selection of fresh vegetables, when he feels a body pressing close to him from behind. With a very _manly_ squeal, he spins around and finds himself face to face with a waterfall of blonde curls and set of magnificently displayed boobs. Damn stilettos! They make him feel so fucking short!  
  
“Hi Erica, what’s up?”  
  
The only answer he gets is a smirk and she steps even closer, causing Stiles to back up into the corner, which is just great thinking, genius! She places a hand on his chest, thankfully too high up to warrant any inappropriate responses, and leans in a bit.  
  
“So, Isaac won’t really tell me what happened, but with the way he smelled, the possibilities are few. Which is what brings me here, _Stiles_ ,” she says, her tone practically purring. “If you’re giving it away, I figure I should get my turn too, hmm?”  
  
Stiles’ brain is currently on vacation, most likely to the Caribbean or whatever - try again later and all that shit - and he is gaping unattractively, struggling to come up with an answer. How did he go from being unable to withstand anybody touching his navel, in any way, to him fucking his way through the pack members? No, no, no and just no! The only one he’s ever entertained fantasies about is their grumpy-ass Alpha, and there’s really no possibility _he_ is next in line for _this_ ride, sweet as it may be! Besides, he might be aware of Erica’s hotness and the fact she’s kind of awesome behind that bad-ass attitude, but he really has no desire to lose his virginity to her. Besides, she probably thinks he’s, like, experienced, which is _so_ not the case.  
  
“Um, sorry, I don’t really know what Isaac smelled like or why you think that has anything to do with me, but I can assure you, that we did nothing inappropriate!”  
  
She scoffs and rolls her eyes.  
  
“Oh come on, Stiles! He reeked of you and your spunk, so there’s really no reason to try and convince me otherwise. Besides, he’s been giving everybody that guilty look all day and ran off so fast he rivaled the Roadrunner every time he got near you. I’m not stupid, you know!”  
  
Stiles feels a strange urge to both cry and laugh, so he settles on an exasperated huff. Before he can argue her point, she lets her hand slide down to his stomach, a predatory look in her eyes. He squeaks and tries to slap her hand away, but she is unmovable. She is obviously trying for a seductive caress, trailing her fingers down the front of his shirt, but Stiles is way too panicked about the direction she’s taking, to appreciate the situation. Because even if he’s not really tempted by her offer, or demand, rather, it’s not like he’s often sexually propositioned in the grocery store, which is a weirdly confidence-building experience.  
  
“Um, flattering as this is, I’m not really sure this is what either of us want, so if you could just take your hand off me please, we can both go our merry way, okay?”  
  
Erica presents him with a wolfish grin and flattens her hand over his belly, digging her nails in lightly, scratching right over his belly button. His breath punches out of him in a rush as his dick hardens in his jeans. This is going to be _so_ bad, he can already feel it.  
  
It only takes a few seconds before Erica’s nostrils flare and her wicked smile turns up a notch. Apparently, she isn’t really aware of the hairline trigger unexperienced guys can have. She runs her hand in a firm slide across Stiles’ abdomen and even manages to get a finger a bit into his navel, and that’s _it_! He doubles up with a grunt and shoots his load inside his jeans. His muscles are still trying to get back in working order when she steps back, as if burned.  
  
“Did you just..?” she asks, incredulous, watching him with wide eyes, though still raising a condemning eyebrow. Stiles groans in mortification and covers his tomato-red face in his hands.  
  
“Oh my God, you did! You just came in your pants!” she hisses at him, way too loud for Stiles’ peace of mind.  
  
“Shh! Keep it down, will you? This is all your fault anyway, for attacking me in the freaking grocery store. I’m gonna say thanks, but no thanks, Erica, and in the future I’d appreciate it if you kept your hands off me!” he snaps back.  
  
She looks stunned for a few moments, before her usual, cool facade covers it up.  
  
“Whatever, now I know why Isaac avoided you all day.”  
  
She throws him an offended glare and spins around, her hair whipping Stiles in the face, and stalks off. He races home and takes a shower, where he contemplates drowning himself, just to avoid the inevitable torture which will rain down upon him as soon as he shows his face at school tomorrow. Great!

  
¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤

  
 **+1. Derek**  
  
The moon is casting an almost blue glow across his room when Stiles is getting ready for bed. He’s just pulled on his pajama pants and straightened up, when his window is slammed open. There is really no doubt about who’s entering, but Stiles still twists around, heart hammering in his throat. Surprise visits in the night isn’t usually a precursor for good news or pleasant chats.  
  
Derek is standing just inside the window, arms crossed over his chest, scowl in place. The silence stretches, making Stiles increasingly agitated. He’s tired of being on the receiving end of the Sourwolf’s intimidation tactics.  
  
“What do you want?” he snaps, “You were the one crawling in my window, which is still a quality creeper act, I gotta tell you, so either spit out whatever you wanted to say or skulk right back where you came from!” he adds, moving his hands in a shooing motion to make his point.  
  
The Alpha’s glare only intensifies.  
  
“I’m here to tell you to stop getting it on with half my pack members!” Derek grits out.  
  
Stiles is pretty sure his heart completely stops for a second. Did Erica run straight to her alpha to rat him out? It’s not like he did anything with either her or Isaac!  
  
In the end, Stiles snorts and resorts to sarcasm like he usually does.  
  
“ _Getting it on_ with? Jeez, is this some sort of bad nineties sitcom? That’s really cheesy, man!”  
  
Derek growls low, menacingly, and before Stiles can even pout at the creepy creeper, he’s pushed back against the wall, his head cracking painfully into the hard surface.  
  
“Ow! Okay, okay, relax Derek! It wasn’t my fault, you know.”  
  
The Alpha sneers.  
  
“How does that logic work? It wasn’t your fault you had sex with Isaac and Erica?”  
  
Stiles’ arms flail and he squeaks indignantly.  
  
“Whoa, there! I never had sex with _either_ of them, I swear! I’m a freaking virgin, dude!”  
  
Red eyes stare into his, Derek’s grip on his shirt unrelenting, but slowly the Alpha’s features soften and settle into confusion when he hears the truth in Stiles’ heartbeat. He doesn’t let go, however, so Stiles figures he might as well start explaining, since he’s obviously not getting out of this without doing so. Plus, he really doesn’t want Derek to think he’s got the hots for any of his betas. It’s not like he thinks something would ever happen between the two of them, but he doesn’t want to know it never _could_.  
  
“Listen, the problem is that I have a... well, a sort of weak spot, and if anyone touches it, it sets off the whole chain reaction,” he trails off with a gesture to his groin area, hoping he’ll be able to settle for a little less than total humiliation. Naturally, that won’t happen. Derek just stares at him with a raised eyebrow.  
  
“You know,” Stiles says again, this time waving a hand in front of his crotch while giving the Alpha a significant look. The response he gets is Derek’s arms crossing over his chest once more, and his second eyebrow joins the first so high on the werewolf’s forehead, they almost disappear within his hair.  
  
Stiles huffs, exasperated, and groans in premature shame.  
  
“Alright then, I see how this is gonna go. It’ll be _How To Humiliate Stiles Until He Kills Himself, Alpha Edition_! Ugh, well, whenever anyone touches my navel in any way, I get a boner so fast even _you_ wouldn’t believe it, and if anyone keeps poking, hitting, shoving or whatever they’re doing, I spray spunk all over the place, alright? It takes like five seconds tops, if you hit it right. _That’s_ what your wonderful betas managed to do. I did not have sex with either of them; Isaac came over here because he couldn’t sleep and he cuddled me half to death! I woke up when he hugged me around the middle, which ended just like you would expect in this freakshow that is my life. Erica thought I’d fucked Isaac, and she wanted some action too, so she followed me to the grocery store where she mauled my stomach. I had to suffer the walk of shame from the vegetable aisle to my jeep while she flounced off like a banshee. Figures she’d go right to you, the tattle tale!”  
  
After his rant, Stiles slumps over and retreats to his bed. Derek is standing stone faced and unmoving in the middle of the floor. He’s quiet for so long, Stiles begins to worry whether he has some secret Medusa skills or what, but then the Alpha clears his throat and turns around to face Stiles again. His expression is sort of tight, but oddly open.  
  
“Can you show me?” he asks, voice hoarse and gravelly.  
  
Stiles gapes for a moment.  
  
“Show you what? The exact spot I was attacked or my awesome walk of shame?”  
  
Derek growls once and steps closer.  
  
“No, you moron. I mean, can you show me how it... what it does to you?”  
  
All of a sudden the air seems to have left the room. Stiles is gaping, totally stunned. He can’t believe he just heard that! Derek wants to see what happens when someone touches his belly button? Why? Is he trying to get proof, additional to the fact he could hear Stiles isn’t lying, or is he genuinely interested in getting up and personal with Stiles’ dick? What if this is a trick of some sort? Should he take the risk? It’s not like another opportunity to get into some naughty business with Derek will just plop down into his lap.  
  
Stiles looks up and sees Derek’s honest expression. There’s something in the Alpha’s eyes, a sort of hunger perhaps, and he thinks, ‘To hell with it’! When he speaks again, his voice is higher than he’d like, but it’s not all the way to squeaky, so he’ll count that as a victory.  
  
“Alright, I’ll just... yeah, okay.”  
  
He lies back on the bed, arranging his pillow so he’s comfortable, half lying, half sitting, and then he throws a glance at Derek. The werewolf is still standing in the same spot, his eyes glued to Stiles.  
  
“Do you want me to be naked?” Stiles asks in a breathy tone.  
  
He can see the Alpha’s pupils blow wide, so all the beautiful green in his eyes almost disappears. He simply nods and Stiles pushes his pajama pants down and kicks them off. The thought of letting Derek see him like this already has his cock stirring, so in order to prove his point, he uses a single finger to rub across his navel and the familiar, almost electric jolt runs through his body. Before he’s even taken a full breath, he can feel his his dick rapidly filling and rising. In a matter of seconds he’s rock hard, his erection straining up his abdomen. To prove his point about how much playing with his belly button affects him, he curls a finger around his cock and lifts it up until it’s standing straight up from his body and releases it. It slaps down on his stomach with an audible thwack, leaving a wet spot where a little pre-come leaked out.  
  
Derek is staring at Stiles’ cock, the longing in his expression now obvious. Feeling a bit braver, Stiles smiles at him and gestures the Alpha over with a hand.  
  
“Derek, do you wanna try it?”  
  
The werewolf swallows visibly and darts a quick look at Stiles’ face, presumably to check whether or not he’s being messed with, before settling on the bed next to him. Then he reaches out a hand, letting it hover above Stiles’ stomach, clearing his throat.  
  
“So, um, I just touch your navel? That’s it?”  
  
“Yeah,” Stiles answers softly, giving the Alpha a small smile. He might be about to broadcast his seriously short stamina, but it’s still intimate and it’s with Derek, who’s looking so lost and eager at the same time, he can’t really bring himself to pull out, even if he’d wanted to.  
  
Stiles bites his lip when Derek extends a finger, lowering it slowly until it catches the rim of his sensitive belly button. The Alpha swirls his finger once before pushing down. The breath gushes out of Stiles and his abs clench, his whole body tensing as the ecstasy tears violently through his system. He isn’t able to contain the cry as he comes, his cock spurting string after string of pearly white up his chest, some even going as far as his chin. Complete silence reigns while Stiles’ breathing calms down again. When he braves a look at Derek, the werewolf is sitting with a dumbstruck expression on his face, his finger still outstretched.  
  
As Stiles’ gaze travels south, he notices the Alpha’s jeans are really tight in the crotch area. It would seem he’s been more affected by the situation than he’s willing to let on. Well, Stiles is nothing if not a pleaser, so he clears his throat and gestures with a hand to Derek’s groin.  
  
“You want some help with that?”  
  
Derek growls and launches up to get in Stiles’ face.  
  
“Do you ever shut up?”  
  
Stiles smirks and flippantly answers, “Nope.”  
  
The Alpha answers by rolling his eyes like Stiles is the single most frustrating thing he’s ever encountered, hunters and kanimas included, and sits back on his haunches. Stiles doesn’t want him to draw back into his shell, so he reaches out and places a hand on Derek’s thigh, squeezing gently.  
  
“Seriously, can I?” he asks, sliding his hand up slightly closer to his desired destination.  
  
Derek’s eyes widen and red bleeds in around the edges of his iris. The werewolf takes a deep breath and leans in close, forcing them to breathe the same air.  
  
“Are you sure you want to?” Derek asks, his face deliberately expressionless. Stiles has seen it enough to recognize it, but right now he’d really be grateful for some emotion to respond to. He’ll have to work blind as is mostly the case when he’s communicating with the stubborn Alpha.  
  
“Well yes. I mean, I’ve told you I haven’t done any of this stuff before, so you’ll have to decide for yourself if you are willing to risk it. I wouldn’t mind getting a taste, though,” Stiles trails off, a crooked smile on his face.  
  
Instead of answering with actual words, Derek pops the button on his jeans, ripping them open and shoving them halfway down his thighs while crawling up Stiles’ body until he’s seated right above Stiles’ frantically beating heart. His cock bobs slightly, almost making Stiles go cross-eyed, it’s so close.  
  
A wicked grin stretches on Derek’s face as he grabs his dick, giving it a few, slow strokes before letting go.  
  
“Let’s see if that big mouth is good for something besides talking!”  
  
Stiles is about to object, when he thinks better of it. The Alpha smirks at him, and Stiles promptly takes hold of his cock, pulling it down within range of his tongue. He might not have any experience with this, but courage is not something Stiles has ever been short of. As he licks up the underside of Derek’s erection, he watches the Alpha’s reactions avidly, enjoying the obvious pleasure in hisexpression. He sucks the head into his mouth and swirls his tongue around and into the slit, delighting in the moans and groans Derek lets escape. Fingers wind into his hair, the little there is, and cradles his head. Initially, Stiles had thought the taste would be bad, but it’s not, really. He can’t say it’s exactly pleasant, but the gratification in seeing what his ministrations do to the Alpha is enough to make it well worth it.  
  
Soon, Derek is breathing hard, his chest heaving, sweat gleaming on his skin. He is grinding his hips, shoving his cock deeper into Stiles’ mouth as he throws his head back, mouth slack in pleasure. Stiles gags a few times, as he is not really used to something attempting to go down his throat, aside from food and water, but the Alpha pulls back when it gets to be too much. The thing is, though, Stiles is not sure he even wants him to, so he puts his hands on Derek’s hips, urging him to do as he wants.  
  
The Alpha growls low and deep, punching his hips forward, thrusting his dick so far in, it hits the back of Stiles’ throat. His eyes water and he has to fight the reflex to flinch away, but at the same time it feels amazing. Some part of him truly likes being used by Derek, satisfying his Alpha. Perhaps he is feeling more attached to the grouchy man than he initially thought.  
  
When Stiles hums and sucks hard, Derek grunts and hunches over, thrusting into his mouth once more before he comes with a loud howl. Stiles’ mouth is flooded with bitter fluid and he tries really hard to swallow it all, but some escapes and trickles down his chin. The Alpha’s eyes follow the progress and he raises a finger to push it back, a strange, almost possessive air about him. Some previously unknown instinct causes Stiles to part his lips and swipe his tongue over Derek’s fingers, eagerly inviting them in before licking them clean.  
  
The silence is complete but not awkward at all, which is really weird since Stiles usually can’t stand the quiet, ever. Maybe it’s because he’s completely spent, panting on top of his recent workout. Derek’s face is the most relaxed he’s ever seen, post orgasmic bliss probably the primary cause for it, but he feels proud of his accomplishment, nonetheless.  
  
“Good?” he asks, letting his head rest back on the pillow.  
  
Derek huffs a weak chuckle and rolls off him, settling on the mattress beside Stiles.  
  
“Yeah, as it turns out, that mouth is quite talented, when you put it to the right use.”  
  
Stiles snorts in fake offense and gives the Alpha’s shoulder a light shove. The movement makes his stomach skin itch and he looks down to see the mess of come smeared on his skin. He makes a disgusted face and struggles upright to fetch a wash cloth. When they’re both clean once more, he crawls back into his bed and snuggles up to Derek, taking it as a good sign that he doesn’t lose an arm or is thrown off the mattress.  
  
Confidence bolstered by his success, Stiles leans up and presses his lips to the Alpha’s soft ones. Derek reciprocates immediately, lifting his hand to cup Stiles’ cheek. The kiss stays gentle, both of them unwilling to turn it up, to make it more than a simple but heartfelt statement of unspoken affection.  
  
They separate and Stiles nuzzles into Derek’s neck, breathing in his unique Derek-ness.  
  
“So,” the Alpha says, tone teasing, “What happens when I touch your belly button again?”  
  
Stiles rolls his eyes.  
  
“Gee, what do you think, genius?”  
  
Derek gives him a positively evil smirk.  
  
“Well, I don’t know how fast you recuperate, now do I? Granted, with your lack of stamina one would think you’d have the speedy recovery of a teenager as well, eh?”  
  
“Idiot,” Stiles huffs in an exasperated, fond tone. “I _am_ still technically a teenager. I’m eighteen.”  
  
Derek smiles at him and runs a hand down towards Stiles’ navel, brushing his fingers lightly over it. Stiles whines and writhes in the sheets as his cock gives an interested twitch, starting to thicken. The werewolf grumbles in satisfaction and before Stiles can even think to make a request for something other than belly button manipulation, the Alpha swoops down on him, sucking Stiles’ throbbing erection into his mouth. He’s a fair deal more proficient in the art of giving a blow job, and it isn’t long before Stiles cries out, shooting his load down Derek’s throat.  
  
“Oh my God, I think you broke my brain!” Stiles whines, while the Alpha is kissing and licking his way up until their lips meet again and they exchange an open-mouthed kiss. Stiles has a weird feeling this was a test of some sort, to see if he’d cringe away from kissing Derek when he’s just had Stiles’ come in his mouth. He doesn’t really mind, though, getting to kiss the Alpha is totally worth it!  
  
“Go out with me,” Derek says and Stiles can’t really tell if it’s a question or an order, but either way, he won’t refuse. He turns on his side to face the werewolf, gives him a beaming smile and nods vigorously before launching himself on top of the Alpha’s muscled body.  
  
"Mine," Derek growls playfully - and isn't that just a miracle? Call the tabloids! - and hugs Stiles close. "Your belly button is mine too, and nobody else is allowed to play with it!"  
  
Stiles laughs, happy and more carefree than he's been in a long time, and stretches forward to place a light bite along the Alpha's jaw.  
  
"That goes both ways, you know!"  
  
Derek's eyes tell him without a doubt, this is true.

 

~ The End ~

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you enjoyed :) I'd truly appreciate a comment and/or kudos.


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